


It's Quiet Uptown

by unitedstarship



Series: It's Quiet Uptown [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, DO NOT BE DISCOURAGED BY THE CHARACTER DEATH TAG, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, No Angst, basically the 'what if world war two never happened' au nobody asked for, bucky is not disabled, its still a happy ending i promise!!!, mainly from steves pov but lots of little switches to bucky for story purposes, steve does not have any ailments, this entire fic is happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-24 06:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9708029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unitedstarship/pseuds/unitedstarship
Summary: Steve Rogers is living a good life. He's finishing high school, drawing whenever he can, and the economy is at its peak almost twenty years after the end of the Great War. The country is peaceful; swing music playing out of every dive in Brooklyn, milk prices at an all-time low, and the usual New York stench sustained by every bakery's aroma of fresh baked bread and cakes. Oh, and Steve's in love with his best friend Bucky Barnes, but what else is new?





	1. How Lucky We Are To Be Alive Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> yes all the chapter titles are lyrics from hamilton
> 
> this is basically a big ol fluff piece about two boys in love so enjoy

**VICTORY: ARMISTICE SIGNED, GREAT WAR TO END?**  
_Troops are being pulled off the front._

_November 1918_ // Germany has agreed to sign an armistice, and while it is not a term of peace, it will effectively end the fighting on the Western Front. The full terms of the agreement are still being discussed. The German Empire is now in disarray and revolution, an issue the United States will not take part in.

**OVERSEAS: ADOLF HITLER ARRESTED, WILL NOT BE RELEASED AGAIN**  
_Radical sentenced to life imprisonment._

_May 1926_ // Adolf Hitler was arrested Friday morning by German police for conspiracy to commit mass murder, among other charges. Mr. Hitler was arrested several years ago for interrupting a political meeting and stating that he was going to “start a revolution”. He was pardoned by the Bavarian Supreme Court and released early, having only completed less than one year of a five-year sentence. Earlier this year, he released the second volume of his book Mein Kampf, which detailed his plans to transform German society into one race. Many passages of the book heavily implied genocide. Since the first volume was released, German police have been putting together a case again Mr. Hitler, and only last week completed their investigation. They stormed his place of residence and arrested him on accounts of conspiracy to commit mass murder, and other hate crimes. Police have stated that, due to the nature of his arrest, he will be sentenced for life in prison without possibility of parole or early release. Addendum: Adolf Hitler hung himself in his cell early this morning, only three days after his arrest, leaving behind a suicide note that summarily reads: “I will not go back to the prisons. I die in the name of my cause.” Police are not launching an investigation into his death.

**FINANCE: ECONOMY AT ALL TIME HIGH**  
_Everyone financially stable for first time in decades._

_January 1933_ // Fifteen years after the Great War ends, the US economy has risen above its debts and is now in a period of great wealth. Gas prices are at an all-time low. Milk prices are at an all-time low. Salaries are at an all-time high. Unemployment rates are at an all-time low. And it’s not expected to end anytime soon.

**

***

**

_1935_

Steve opened his eyes to the soft glow of the late morning sun. He momentarily reveled in the fact that the apartment had a perfect view of the water and an east facing window. Sunrises were his favorite. He yawned once, gradually waking up. He blinked. _Wait. What time is it?_ He sat up quickly and looked over at the antique clock on his bedroom wall. _Shit, it’s almost 10:30!_ He hopped out of bed, grabbed a pair of neatly hung khakis and suspenders out of his closet, then rushed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He went back into his room, pulled on his shoes and a random shirt from his closet, grabbed his wallet, and rushed out the front door in a record four minutes, locking it behind him.

He did some calculations in his head while running down the stairs of the Red Hook apartment building. _The diner stops serving breakfast at 10:30, and it’s an eight-minute walk, five if I hurry._ He looked down at his watch, the old leather strap loose against his wrist. 10:30 am exactly. He won’t make it. Luckily, he knows the waitress, and the cook. They’ll make an exception for him. Hopefully.

Steve reached the diner six minutes later, and took his usual seat at the far right of the row of bright red barstools.

“You’re late,” Peggy commented, striding over with a pot of coffee in her hand. “Coffee or tea today darling?” she asked, English accent posh and elegant.

“Coffee, please,” Steve practically begged. “I overslept. Spent all night thinking about Bucky’s party.” Peggy grabbed a mug from under the counter, and poured a big cup of hot coffee while Steve continued, “I gotta go pick up the cake from the bakery in,” he looked down at his watch, “Oh, about 20 minutes. Then I gotta go and pick up everything else and get it all set up because he’s coming at 5, and I gotta do this and that.” He waved his arms in multiple directions, then stopped to sigh, “So, I’m gunna have to eat and go today Pegs. You know I enjoy our chats, but today’s a big day.”

Peggy smiled. “I know Steve. It’s okay. I see you almost every weekend I’m here. I’ll live this once.”

Steve smiled back. “He’s turning 18, gotta work extra hard to make it special.”

“You’re quite right. Now, you know we just stopped serving breakfast,” Steve pouted at her. “But, because I like you, I’ll let you have your usual, or I can ask Jim to whip you up a short stack?”

Steve beamed. “Please, Jim’s pancakes are the best in town. Thank you Peggy.”

She smiled once again, her red lipstick bright against her perfect teeth. “Coming right up.”

Peggy Carter had immigrated to the United States from England only three years ago. She was a brilliant young woman at twenty-three. She was putting herself through college, full-time, excelling at all her studies, and working long hours on top of it. She was strong and beautiful, both things Steve admired about her.

Steve loves Peggy, she just doesn’t know it. He’s loved her ever since he stepped foot in the diner two years ago, but he’s never had the courage to actually ask her out. They flirt casually whenever he comes in, and talk for hours until Steve finally has to leave. It’s a routine they’ve built up every time he’s there. It’s nice.

Steve finished his pancakes, put down enough for the food, plus a dime for Peggy as always, and walked out the door, waving to Jim and Peggy as he left.

Steve paused for a moment to appreciate the cool weather of a mid-March day. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he let the as-clean-as-it-will-ever-be air of New York creep through his body. He feels so at home in New York; being anywhere else would just feel wrong.

Making his way to the bakery a couple blocks away, Steve made a mental list of what he needed for the party tonight. _Cake? On my way for it. Chicken. Some vegetables. Couple of Cokes._ His plan is to make baked chicken and vegetables for dinner, give Bucky his present, serve the cake, and just hang out. It’ll only be the two of them tonight at Steve’s place, his mom being gone for a 12 hour shift at the hospital all day. Neither Steve nor Bucky have many friends, so it won’t be a “party” in the traditional sense, and they’re both fine with it. They’ve only had each other ever since they could remember, and that’s really all they need.

The small bell above the shop door rang out as Steve entered _Sweet Treats_. “Hey Darcy,” he called out to the young woman behind the counter. “Here to pick up his cake.”

Darcy Lewis looked up at Steve with a flash of surprise before beaming at him. “Steve! You’re right on time, although I honestly expected you to be here an hour ago, with the way you run your schedules,” she commented. “His cake is right in the back, just give me one second.” She turned on her bright pink heels and disappeared into the kitchen. Darcy was an eccentric twenty-one year old, who taught herself how to bake when she was only eleven. She always wore insanely bright dresses and aprons, in all sorts of mismatched colors, and heels so high it made Steve cringe seeing her walk in them. Darcy was an old friend from Steve’s neighborhood, and she frequently had him try out her new recipes that nobody else would touch. _Steve you have got to try out this new peanut butter raspberry cake. I even put banana frosting on it._ He was always too polite to say no, and ended up spitting it out when she wasn’t looking.

Steve was just admiring a red velvet cupcake in the display, that appeared to have twice as much frosting on it than cake, when he heard the kitchen door swing open.

“Here we go,” Darcy proclaimed, coming back with a small pink pastry box. “One chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and a light layer of jimmies.” She handed it to him, then walked back behind the counter. Steve peaked inside the box to look at the cake, smiled at the little extra bits of frosting that Darcy had piped on the bottom, then followed her over to the register.

“It looks fantastic.”

“Thanks! Although, I wish you had let me layer it and frost it proper.”

He laughed. “You know I didn’t need that much cake. It’s only for the two of us.”

Darcy grumbled out, “So? Cake is great, you two could have eaten it all.”

Steve smiled. “Sure. Alright, what do I owe you?”

Darcy scanned the ticket. “Seventy-five cents.”

Steve paused. “Darcy. How much is it really?”

She just looked at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Darcy.”

“Fine, it’s usually eighty but you know I’m doing okay right? I can spare a nickel for a friend.”

Steve gave her a determined look. “I never want to short you though, you know that.” With one hand, he pulled out three quarters and a dime from his pocket, put it on the counter, then started toward the door.

Darcy looked down at the money, her face disapproving. “Steve I swear-“

Steve held up his free hand and smiled at her. “For doing it on such short notice.” She smirked. _This kid._ “Thanks Darcy, I’ll be back later for that cupcake!” He waved, pushing the door open with his hip, then sauntered back out onto the New York streets, and headed toward the general store.

He almost didn’t have enough to pay for his supplies at the store. The chicken was five cents more than he thought it would be, but after fishing in his pockets, he found a spare dime, told the guy to keep the change, and walked out happy.

Steve arrived back at his apartment a little after 1 pm, giving him four hours to set up everything and cook. So, he started on the chicken because that would take the longest, got it in the oven, then started setting up the brightly colored streamers across the living room.

He ended up finishing with just five minutes before five, after nearly overcooking the chicken and vegetables. Everything came out fine though; the cake was set up on the counter, meals plated and on the table, Cokes in the ice box because Bucky preferred his chilled, and his present tucked away in Steve’s room. It wasn’t wrapped because there was nothing to wrap, just a piece of paper. Steve knew that Bucky wasn’t fond of material things, that he preferred memories over objects, so Steve tried to reflect that in his gift. He was nervous about giving it to Bucky, but he couldn’t do anything about it at this point. All he had to do now, was wait for his best friend to walk through the front door.

**

Bucky woke up in a tiny puddle of his own drool. He groggily blinked, letting the late morning sun wash over his face and into his sight. _Ugh. Fuck._ He rolled over, his face hitting a dry spot on the pillow, and almost went back to sleep, when he remembered that he had his shift that morning. Bucky groaned, and looked over at his clock to see how much more time he could laze about before he actually had to get up. He bolted upright. _It’s 10:30 already?? How did I sleep this late?_ He was supposed to be up two hours ago, so that he had plenty of time to lounge around before heading to the garage for his 9 am shift.

He groaned again, trying to decide if it was actually worth it to go in late. “Dammit! Becca why didn’t you wake me up?!” he called out to his sister, who, at this time on a Sunday morning, would be studying in the small kitchen of their shoebox Brooklyn apartment.

“I tried! Several times! You were basically dead to the world so I gave up,” she called back, annoyed at being interrupted.

Bucky decided it was worth it to go in, since he was worrying about it already. He quickly rolled out of bed, throwing on his work uniform as he searched for his wallet. He pulled on his shoes and ran out the door, kissing his sisters head on the way, “Bye, Bec! Love you! Remember, I’ll be back early to change before heading to Steve’s, so don’t do anything dumb!”

Approximately ten seconds later, he rushed back inside to grab his keys. Rebecca just rolled her eyes as her big brother slammed the door for the second time that morning.

Bucky walked quicker than usual, but still took his time ( _I’m already late so what’s the big rush?_ ) as he made his way over to _Odinson General Repair_ , one of only two automobile repair shops in the city.

Bucky had always been fascinated with machinery and technology. During what little down time he had, he was always fiddling with some piece of old technology he’d find in the trash. That’s how he had gotten his job at _Odinson_. He was running around, job hunting after he was laid off from the docks, and stopped to pick up an old, busted up carburetor from the trash outside a garage. He sat down on the ground, picked the whole thing apart into as many pieces as it would naturally go, then tried to put it back together. The owner, Thor, had stepped out to take out the trash when he’d noticed Bucky on the ground, surrounded by screws and little metal pieces, face furled in deep concentration. He offered Bucky a job and training right on the spot.

Thor’s always been good to him. While Bucky’s only worked for him a few months, he gives Bucky a decent salary, good hours, and treats him like a friend above an employee. Which is why, when Bucky strode into the shop almost two hours late for work, Thor didn’t say a word; just handed him an order slip. Bucky nodded, grateful to not be chastised, and got to work.

Working with Thor was weird at first. He wasn’t like any other employer Bucky had worked with. Thor was mostly quiet when he was working, but when they were on break, or there weren’t any cars in, he just wouldn’t shut up. He was a large guy, all muscles and blonde hair, with a thickly accented, booming voice anyone could hear a mile away. In the first week, Bucky learned that Thor had immigrated from Norway to New York when he was barely twenty with his brother, but when they docked, his brother had just vanished. Thor seemed sad when telling the story, so Bucky didn’t press for details. Later, he learned that Thor didn’t speak a lick of English at first, but once he showed people that he knew his way around a Ford, he was offered a job by the owner of a garage. A year ago the owner passed away, so Thor took over the business.

The shop was busy non-stop until Bucky got off at 4. They didn’t usually close until 6, but he had let Thor know ahead of time that it was his birthday and he had something special planned so he had to get off early. Just as Bucky was putting away his toolbox, Thor put one hand on his shoulder and pushed a small box into his hand. “For you. For birthday,” he said, smiling. “Open.”

Bucky started to protest, “Thor. You didn’t have to-“

“Open,” Thor basically commanded.

Bucky relented, knowing he wouldn’t win, and opened the box to reveal a bracelet. The entire thing looked homemade, mainly out of coated wire. Bucky held it up out of the box so he could look at all the charms on it. Little screws and tiny molded pieces of metal made to look like cars or motorcycles dangled off the wire. It was crudely made but Bucky could tell it came from the heart. He tied it around his left wrist.

“Thor it’s… it’s wonderful. Thank you,” Bucky said, giving Thor a quick side hug.

Thor beamed, pleased that his gift was good. “You are welcome, James.”

Bucky finished his closing duties, and exited the shop to the late afternoon sun. He reveled in the tranquility of the city for a brief moment, before basically skipping back to his apartment, giant grin plastered on his face. He had gotten good at covering up his more-than-platonic love for his best friend, but always allowed himself to be excited to see Steve. He would probably never not be excited to see Steve; probably never stop loving him. Even if he never knows.

He showered as best as he could, scrubbing the motor oil out of his hands and hair, threw on a pair of old jeans and a button up shirt, and made it to Steve’s building right at five. He took the stairs two at a time, got to Steve’s floor, then, in true Bucky fashion, waltzed right into Steve’s apartment without knocking.

**

“Honey, I’m home!”

Steve popped up from his place on the sofa, and flashed a toothy grin at Bucky. “Hey, Buck! Happy birthday,” he said, coming around to give Bucky a hug. He smelled a lot like his apple scented shampoo, plus the vague hint of leftover motor oil.

Bucky hugged back tightly, all strong arms against Steve’s boney frame. _I’ll never get any better hug than yours._ He let go, and moved around so he could ruffle Steve’s hair. “Thanks punk. Oooh that smells real good,” Bucky commented, moving toward the table. “I’m starving, c’mon let’s eat.”

Steve frowned. “Have you not eaten yet?”

Bucky just looked at him, deciding whether or not to lie. He sighed. “No Steve, I woke up late for work, and we were busy until I got off. And I was saving my appetite for your dinner.” He flashed his killer smile at Steve. It usually worked to get him off Bucky’s ass about his bad eating habits.

Steve looked him straight in the eye for a long moment. “Fine, but you know you gotta eat Buck.”

“Yes mom.”

Steve just rolled his eyes, then raised an eyebrow as he caught something shiny on Bucky’s wrist. “Hey, what’s that around your wrist?” Steve gestured to Bucky left hand.

“Oh, this?” Bucky raised his hand up so Steve could see the bracelet. “Thor, my boss, gave it to me before I left today. Pretty neat huh?”

Steve stepped closer and hesitantly took Bucky’s hand so he could turn it over and look at the whole bracelet. He swallowed. Bucky’s hands were rough around the edges but were smooth around his palm. To be honest, Steve wasn’t even paying attention to the bracelet, but more on the electricity he felt having Bucky’s hand in his. It just felt _right_. After a long moment, Steve dropped Bucky’s hand. “Yeah, it’s really cool.”

Steve could of swore he saw a flash of disappointment on Bucky’s face, but it was quickly replaced with his usual bright demeanor. Bucky smiled. “Enough chit-chat. Let’s eat!”

Bucky absolutely loved the dinner, praising Steve on it after practically every bite; even asked for seconds. They ended up sitting at the dinner table for almost two hours after finishing off the food, just talking and laughing. As the conversations began to die down, Steve remembered Bucky’s gift. “Oh, Buck, I have something for you before we get into the cake,” Steve started, getting up from the table.

“Steve you shouldn’t- wait did you say cake?” Bucky was astonished. “This is too much. You really-“

“Buck. It’s nothing, really, didn’t even cost me anything.” Steve winked before disappearing into his room. He took a deep breath. _You can do this Rogers. He’s your best friend; he’s seen your art a million times. This is no different._ He grabbed the drawing and hid it behind his back before making his way back into the kitchen.

The first thing he saw was the apron. It took him a second to process that Bucky was clearing away dishes. It was cute. _Domestic._ Steve blinked, clearing the thought out of his mind. Now was _so_ not the time to think about that. He started to protest, “Wait, you don’t have to-“

“Steve. You made me dinner, got me cake _and_ a gift. Least I can do is clear the dishes.”

“Then, why are you wearing an apron?”

Bucky scoffed. “And get soapy water all over this nice shirt? I think not.”

Steve just busted into a fit of giggles. Bucky grinned and continued to wash dishes, listening to Steve’s adorable laughter. _If I died right this second, I would die the happiest man in the world._ Steve eventually collected himself and moved into the living room, patiently waiting for Bucky to finish up.

Once the last dish was in the drying rack, Bucky pulled off the apron, hung it neatly back where he found it, and joined Steve on the couch.

“Alright, what d’ya got for me?” Bucky crossed one leg over the other, and folded his hands over one knee, all the while staring intently at Steve.

Steve looked at him for a long moment, then shifted his gaze to his hands. “So, remember a few weeks back, when you picked up that old phone out of the trash and sat on the fire escape just tinkering with it for hours?”

Bucky frowned. “Yeah, why?”

“Here.” A piece of paper was thrust into Bucky’s arms, Steve looking anywhere but Bucky’s gaze. Bucky lifted one eyebrow before turning the paper over. He gaped at what he was seeing.

Filling the entire page was an almost realistic rendering of Bucky sitting cross-legged on the fire escape outside his apartment, surrounded by assorted wires and metal pieces, towering buildings filling up the background. Steve studied Bucky’s face for a long minute before speaking. “You never noticed I was even drawing. You were so busy concentrating. You even had your tongue out half the time, look here.” Steve pointed at the shadow of Bucky’s mouth, and sure enough there was a little dark shape sticking out to the side.

Bucky just stared, mesmerized, at the drawing. After a long minute, he moved his gaze over to Steve, who was suddenly very interested in a loose thread on his slacks. “Steve, look at me please.” Steve stiffened, and slowly looked up to meet Bucky’s eyes. Bucky broke into a huge grin. “This is so fucking incredible! You are so incredible, Steve, how do you even do this? I love it. I love it so much. Thank you.” Bucky leaned over to give Steve a tight hug.

Steve was about to cry. He didn’t. But he was about to. He was so relieved to hear that Bucky liked it. That he wasn’t mad that Steve drew him without permission. He managed to get out a soft _you’re welcome_ , before Bucky let go.

“As much as I just want to keep staring at this, you said something about cake?”

Steve shook off his emotions and grinned. Bucky always knew the right things to say. “Wait til you see it; I had Darcy make it and you know how much she loves frosting.”

Steve ended up grabbing the Cokes from the ice box while Bucky cut out two pieces of cake for the both of them. Steve had gotten to the knife first, but Bucky plucked it out of his grasp, proclaiming: _You can’t even draw a straight line to save your life, much less cut one._ Steve had scoffed at him, even if he knew it was true, but relented nonetheless.

Bucky carried the cake slices out to the fire escape, Steve following closely behind. They settled themselves, legs dangling off the edge, staring into the never ending abyss of the poorly lit New York streets. Bucky traded Steve a cake slice for a Coke, and, unlike at dinner, they ate their dessert in total quiet. Just enjoying the company of the other boy. Every so often, one of them would look at the other, admiring the way their profile looked in the low streetlight, the way their eyelashes sat on their face, the way their lips curled up into a smile. They were so gone for each other even a blind man could see it.

Sarah Rogers came home to an open window and two boys throwing leftover cake crumbs at each other, laughing so hard they looked about ready to fall over. She smiled to herself and slipped past them. They’ll figure it out eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact, the term “jimmies” first started appearing in 1930 and the thing itself (which is chocolate sprinkles by the way) is said to have been invented by a Brooklyn based candy company
> 
> find me on tumblr @[prcserumrogers](http://unitedstarship.co.vu)
> 
> i have the first few chapters, the last chapter, and some middle scenes done rn but im testing the waters to see if anybody likes it so!! i thrive off those kudos and comments :)


	2. The Man Is Non-Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for very mild implied abuse
> 
> i was going to wait to post this chapter but the reception has been great so far and its a good day so here ya go

A couple months after the party, Steve was doodling in his room when he heard a knock on the front door. “I’ll get it!” His mother called out. _I wasn’t gunna get it anyways._ Steve heard some mumbling as the door was opened and the person let in. A few minutes later, he heard someone walking toward his door and a soft knock on the doorframe. He looked up.

“You know, I love your mom a lot but that woman could talk about the color of paint for three hours and still not be done. I only managed to get over here by telling her I was eating properly and staying healthy, and yes my sister is doing well, and work is fine, and _I really need to talk to Steve but it was lovely seeing you as always Sarah.”_ Bucky was rambling now, leaning against the doorframe in his sweaty, oil-ridden work coveralls. He sighed. “So, hi.”

Steve smiled. “Hi.”

“Here, I have something for you.” Bucky handed Steve a flyer.

**ART OF THE FUTURE CONTEST**

CALLING ALL ARTISTS AND WRITERS

Do you have a vision of what the future looks like? What the world may look like, what the politics will be like, what new technology with change society? Then this is the contest for you!

The Creative Arts Project is putting together a magazine entitled ‘Art of the Future’, featuring the very ideas of everyday people like you, and your vision of the future.

Regardless of whether you win or not, all approved pieces will be featured in the project magazine, with the first prize art piece on the cover, and first prize written piece on the inside jacket.

PRIZES

ART: First Place = $10 / Second Place = $5 / Third Place = $2

WRITTEN: First Place = $8 / Second Place = $4 / Third Place = $2

Submit all pieces to Creative Arts Inc., in Brooklyn, by May 30

Steve scanned over the flyer, then looked back up at Bucky. “Where did you even get this?”

“It was pinned outside the shop, thought you might wanna enter.”

Steve looked at the due date. “Buck, the entries are due in less than two weeks, and I don’t even have an idea.”

Bucky smiled. “I’ve seen you do more with less time before. You have millions of ideas floating around in that head of yours, I know you’ll think of something. Plus, it’s great exposure, even if you don’t win it’s still published.”

Steve sighed. “I hate you, because you know that when I saw this, I’d start forming ideas and thoughts and now I have to do it.”

Bucky feigned surprise, and put a hand on his chest. “Who, me?”

Steve smiled. “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“And you’re a punk.” Bucky laughed, lightly punching Steve on the shoulder. “You’ll figure something out; I know you will.”

Steve was walking back from the diner a few days later when he saw a homeless man asking for change. While it was rare now to see the homeless with the country doing so well, they were still out there. Steve was searching in his pockets for any loose pennies when he noticed that the man was wearing a battered army jacket, with the left arm hanging loose and empty. He didn’t have a left arm. _Oh god, he’s a disabled war vet._ Steve found a couple nickels, and walked over to drop them in the man’s change can. He put his hand on the man’s right shoulder. “Thank you for your service. I’m sorry that this is happening to you.” The man smiled and nodded, so Steve squeezed his shoulder and started to walk away. _There must be something more I can do._ He thought for a moment while walking down the street. Then, it hit him. He had his idea for the contest.

**

They were lying on the floor of Bucky’s room, sweating, in as little clothes as possible, when Bucky spoke up. “Hey, you wanna go get some ice cream? I want some ice cream.”

Steve didn’t even have the chance to respond before he was being helped up and a shirt thrust into his face. “C’mon let’s goooo.”

Steve laughed, throwing on the rest of his clothes before following Bucky out of the apartment. They walked the few blocks down to the water without saying anything, occasionally knocking into each other’s shoulders, smiling and laughing.

They found their usual ice cream cart, so Bucky ordered a chocolate cone for himself and vanilla cone for Steve, ignoring Steve’s protests about him paying. They walked down the crowded boardwalk, ice cream continually dripping down their hands, and finally settled upon the last open bench they saw.

They finished their cones as slow as the sun would let them, trying to take in as much of the frozen treat as possible before going back to dying in the heat. Steve sat cross-legged on the bench, while Bucky hugged his knees, sitting so he could face Steve. They stayed there for hours, talking about everything and nothing at all; school, work, the latest baseball game. People came and went, not even paying the two boys any mind.

Bucky was in the middle of a story about the time he walked into a glass door when Steve heard the scream. He whirled around, trying to find the source. _It sounded like a small girl._ He frantically looked around before noticing the group of boys. Another scream pierced the air, directly from where Steve was looking. He hopped up and started to take off in their direction.

“Steve! Wait-“ Bucky sighed. “Shit.”

Steve ran as fast as he could go, Bucky hot on his heels. As they drew closer, Steve could make out the figure of a small girl backed up into a dead end alley, surrounded by at least three boys, all very much bigger than she was.

He came to a halt, panting from the run. “Hey! You, why don’t- you pick- on someone your own size?” He was wheezing, and breathing hard, but raised his fists nonetheless.

The boys turned around. Steve got a good look at them now; they were maybe 14 or 15, holding rocks and grinnin’ like they just won the lottery. Steve peered behind them to catch a glimpse at the girl. She was probably 7, 8 at max, clutching a small doll. Tears and drops of blood were streaming down her face. Steve got even more angry. _She’s just a kid._

The nearest kid lunged at Steve, his fist colliding with Steve’s nose. Steve stumbled and fell, but got back up quickly, raising his fists again. “I could do this all day.”

The kid looked like he was about to hit him again, when Steve heard someone skid to a stop behind him. “Steve?” All three boys tilted their heads up slightly to meet Bucky’s eyes before bolting.

“Wow, didn’t even have to raise a hand that time. Smart kids.”

Steve turned to look at Bucky, who just stared at Steve with a mix of anger and amusement on his face. “Are you okay?”

Steve grumbled, “Didn’t even get a punch in.”

Bucky drew a handkerchief from his back pocket and held it out to Steve. “For your nose.”

Steve gently touched his nose then drew back his hand to look at it. His fingertips were red with blood. _Oh._ “Hadn’t even noticed.” He took the handkerchief and held it up to his nose. “Thanks.”

Bucky turned away from Steve to talk to the girl, who was cowering at the farthest wall, still clutching her doll like it was her lifeline. He slowly walked up to her, hands outstretched to show he meant her no harm. “Hey, kid. You’re safe now. I’m not gunna hurt ya.” He knelt in front of her. “That’s a real cute doll ya got there, what’s her name?”

The girl looked hesitant to answer, and ready to bolt at any second, but answered Bucky with a soft, “Sophie.”

Bucky flashed a soft smile. “Sophie. That’s a pretty name. I’m Bucky. I’m sure your parents are worried about you, and Sophie,” he made a small gesture towards the doll, “so you should get on home to them alright? Do you live close?”

The girl nodded and pointed at the building across the street. “Ah, that is close. Will you let me walk you across the street so I know you got home safe?”

The girl nodded again and took Bucky’s hand. He carefully led her across the street, where she let go of his hand and ran into the building. Bucky made his way back to where Steve was slouched against the wall, handkerchief still pressed into his nose. He stared at Bucky with a sly smile on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Whatever.” He sighed. “You gotta stop gettin’ into fights.” He offered Steve his hand.

Steve took it and was hauled up. “I’ll stop gettin’ into fights when bullies don’t exist anymore.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They wandered aimlessly for a while, and Steve tried to hand back the bloody rag but Bucky insisted he keep it. _It’s tainted now. You bled all over it._ While it sounded rude, he was smiling, and Steve lightly punched him in the shoulder. _Jerk._ Bucky was almost laughing now. _Punk._

It was starting to get dark, so after some deliberation, they decided to head back to Steve’s apartment. It was a bit farther than Bucky’s place, but quieter, and more cozy after an eventful evening on the town.

They entered the semi-dark apartment, opening all the windows and turning on all the fans as they made their way to Steve’s room.

Bucky saw the sketchpad a second before Steve could close it. He slammed it shut and looked pointedly at Bucky.

Bucky searched Steve’s eyes for a moment before speaking. “Steve, why are you so embarrassed for me to see your art?”

“I’m not embarrassed about it, it’s just…” Steve started. “Not all of them are good and there are some sketches…” _Of you._ “…that I don’t want you to see.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “I’m not asking you to show me all of them, I’m just sayin’ that you can share the ones you want to with me. Only the ones you want to. I love your art and I think you’re so talented, you know that.” He lightly bumped Steve’s shoulder with his and smiled.

Steve stared at Bucky for a long moment before relenting. “I know, I know. Well, I did finish the piece for the contest, you wanna see?”

Bucky grinned. “I’d love to.”

Steve grabbed the sketchpad and flipped to the last page, looking over the drawing for a second before handing it over to Bucky.

Bucky examined the entire drawing, corner to corner; his face in an almost permanent O shape. After what felt like an hour, Bucky spoke up. “Steve, don’t take this the wrong way, but what am I looking at exactly?”

Steve came to stand beside Bucky, and turned the sketchpad so both boys could look at it. He pointed at the smiling man sitting on the couch, a drink in his hand. “Well, this guy, he’s a War veteran. You can guess that from the old army jacket hanging on the coat rack here,” he pointed to a coat rack in the corner, a slightly shaded green military jacket hanging off it. “And the fact that he doesn’t have an arm. Sort of.” Steve made a circling motion around the man’s left arm, where instead of bare skin, it was all metal. The arm was muscular, and composed of multiple plates, which had been shaded a very light gray. “It’s a prosthesis. Made out of metal, molded to look exactly like a real arm. I have no idea how it would actually function but I’m sure it _could_.”

Bucky was staring in awe at Steve now. “How did you… Where did you even get this idea? Why?”

Steve shrugged. “It just kinda came to me. I was walking and saw a homeless man on the street, then I noticed he was wearing an old army jacket and missing an arm. I wanted to help him more than just give him some change, so this is what I came up with.”

Bucky looked back at the drawing, fingertips lightly brushing over where the metal arm was. “This design, I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s so advanced. How would it work? Could it move like a real arm? What’s underneath it? Wires, new technology?” He looked up at Steve, eyes wild with ideas. Steve could see the gears turning in his head.

Steve shrugged again. “I’m not the engineer, I’m just an artist.”

“Steve… This is… This is incredible.” Bucky pulled him into a hug. “I know you’ll win. For sure.”

Steve hugged back. “Thanks Buck.”

They fell asleep while sitting on the couch; Steve’s sketchpad discarded to the coffee table, his head leaning on Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky’s barely read crime novel laying gently on his chest. They were at peace. While the positions were uncomfortable, it was one of the best night’s sleep either one of them had gotten in a while.

The next morning, Steve dropped off his drawing to the receptionist at the company. She looked it over and noted his name and address, then commented on how it was one of the more unique pieces she’d seen since the contest started. Steve smiled and thanked her. He didn’t care about winning the contest, so long as his piece inspires someone. That’s all he really wants as an artist, to inspire others to create and challenge. He thought about Bucky’s reaction to the arm yesterday, and only hoped he’d inspired him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always im [prcserumrogers](http://unitedstarship.co.vu) on tumblr
> 
> and kudos and comments fuel me :)


	3. The Revolution’s Happening In New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this is so late guys i dont have a good excuse, but i do have quite a bit of chapters 4 and 5 written so those should be up soon
> 
> also i updated the tags a little bit, just fyi

Steve was sitting in his room, working on a random sketch, when someone knocked on his door.

“Come in!” Steve replied, not taking his eyes of his drawing.

“This just came for you,” his mom said, handing him an envelope.

Steve immediately peeled his eyes from his work, taking the letter from his mom with a swift _thank you_ to see who it was from.

Upon seeing that it was from the people who ran the art contest, the news Steve had been waiting weeks for, he tore open the envelope to read the enclosed letter. His eyes scanned the words once, then twice, before he sat back on his pillow and let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He walked out to return to where his mother was preparing dinner in the kitchen.

“Ma,” Steve started, catching his mother’s attention. “I won.”

Sarah put down the knife she was holding and turned to hug her son. “Steve! That’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you.” She said, pulling back to fluff Steve’s hair.

“Thanks Ma.” Steve replied, blushing at his accomplishment. At the insistence of his mother, Steve pinned the letter to the fridge, feeling embarrassed at the obvious display, but happy nonetheless.

He couldn’t wait to tell Bucky, so, even knowing that he was at work and shouldn’t be disturbed with personal calls, Steve phoned the shop.

“Odinson General Repair,” came the familiar voice.

“Bucky! Bucky I won the contest!” Steve blurted, unable to contain his excitement.

“Wait, what? Steve? Steve that’s great!” Bucky answered, startled at the sound of Steve on the other end.

“I know!”

“That’s amazing, Steve, really. Hey, listen I have the day off tomorrow, we should go out to celebrate.”

“Go out where?”

“I don’t know, but we can talk about it tomorrow. I gotta get back to work. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve replied, voice going soft. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Steve put down the phone and went back to his room, settling into his bed to resume his work with a newfound confidence and a smile on his face.

**

The next day, Bucky came over, and they decided to just go to the diner to see Peggy and have some lunch, then wander around town.

When they entered the diner, Bucky was immediately accosted by Peggy, her hair and makeup still pristine, even though he knew she had already been here for hours.

“Bucky!” she beamed, coming around the counter to hug him, and then Steve. She waved her notepad in the general direction of where Bucky was standing. “You’re never around here much, you need to come by more often.”

Bucky smiled and nodded. “Yes m’am.”

Peggy walked back around the counter to pour the boys some coffee as they sat in their usual seats. “So, what brings the both of you here this fine day?”

Bucky slung an arm around Steve’s neck and gave him a big grin. “Well, this punk just won an art contest, and will be front page on a magazine!”

Steve sheepishly looked down at his hands, a small blush forming on his cheeks. “Was nothin’ really.”

Peggy fitted Steve with a soft look of admiration and slight defiance at his remarks. “Steve, that’s incredible! It’s not nothing, that is something to be proud about. Congratulations!”

Steve looked back up at Peggy, his blush getting deeper by the minute. “Thanks, Peg,” he replied softly, averting his eyes again.

Bucky flicked his gaze between Steve and Peggy, before interjecting, “Yeah! So I suggested we take a day on the town to celebrate his big break. But of course, we gotta stop by the diner so see our favorite gal and tell her the big news first.” He gave Peggy a wink and flashed his killer smile.

Peggy rolled her eyes before taking the boys’ order.

As they ate, the conversation rolled between what Steve was going to do with the prize money ( _give it to my mom – Steve c’mon live a little_ ) to what his next project was going to be ( _I don’t know, I just draw what I want)_ and then to just talk about life in general.

Despite Steve’s protests, Bucky paid for the both of them. “You’ll get me somethin’ nice with that prize money, right?”

Steve laughed. “Whatever you say Buck.”

They left the diner in a fit of laughs and smiles, meandering through the streets of Brooklyn, no real destination in mind. After about an hour of senseless walking, they stumbled upon a large building with a sign proclaiming _Scientific Exposition of New Technologies – See the World of Tomorrow!_

“Steve. Steve Steve _Steve_ , please, we have to go,” Bucky started, practically begging.

“Alright, my goodness, we can go,” Steve responded, prompting Bucky to nearly skip up the concrete steps in delight, Steve trailing behind him with a small huff. _This is the man I’ve chosen to love._

As they stepped into the building, they were struck by the sheer size of the expo. The inside of the building looked like a renovated warehouse, with the ceilings 40 feet up, and the floor itself seemingly endless, with booths and machines scattered everywhere in no discernable pattern.

“Holy shit,” Bucky half-whispered. “This place is _huge_. I don’t even know where to start.”

Steve pointed to a booth to their right. “I’d like to start with whatever that thing is.”

They flitted from booth to booth, growing more and more amazed at every new invention. So far they had seen a jet engine, and a helicopter, both of which Bucky were very interested in. _Steve it flies upwards instead of diagonally. Straight! Up! And it can carry people! That’s incredible._

Then, they moved on to a booth where several young gals were standing around, showing off their legs to allow people to see their stockings, made of this new fabric called nylon. Bucky insisted on going off to talk to the ladies, dragging a blushing Steve along with him.

“Buck, they’re all just pulling their skirts up to show their legs. I can’t go over there, it’s _indecent_ ,” Steve hissed, trying, and failing, to be subtle as he shifted his glance away from the women.

“It’s the future,” Bucky replied, grinning as they stepped closer to the throng of people surrounding the booth.

They stayed for ten minutes, Steve still blushing and unable to make eye contact with any of the ladies, while one of them explained how the fabric stretched around her thigh, making it stay in place and allowing for more comfort. Bucky maintained his flashing smile and interest in the material, making the girl’s blush grow deeper with every passing second.

As soon as she was finished, Bucky thanked her for her time as he and Steve made their way back out onto open floor space.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Bucky laughed, knocking his shoulder with Steve’s.

“Shut up,” Steve grumbled, just glad to be away from the booth.

The next thing they saw piqued Steve’s interest. The man was demonstrating how this new pen worked, and how it could draw smooth lines, using ink from within the pen itself.

Steve looked on with awe as he said, “Buck, do you know how much easier it would be for me to draw hard lines with this? Everything would look so much _neater_.”

Bucky smiled. “Well I know now.”

They walked around a few more minutes before Bucky paused, something catching his interest yet again. “Oh my god, what is _that_?”

Steve looked around, trying to figure out what Bucky was so excited about. “Buck, what are you-”

Bucky didn’t let Steve finish his sentence, as he grabbed the blond’s hand to drag him over to the area in question.

The stout man behind the display table stood up as the boys approached. “So I see this little beauty got ya boys’ attention!” He proclaimed, with a slight Irish accent. The man gestured behind him to a set of black curtains set up to form a small room, on top of which, was a large contraption with many wires and cords sticking out of it.

“What does it do?” Steve queried.

The man let out a hearty, albeit forced, laugh, like he hadn’t heard that question 600 times today. “Technically, _that_ ,” he jerked a thumb behind him at the curtains, “doesn’t do anythin’. It’s what inside it that’s the real fun.”

While Steve was just confused as to what the man could possibly mean, beside him, Bucky was nearly vibrating with excitement and wonder. “Can we… can we see it?” He asked, hesitantly, like he was afraid the answer would be no.

“’Course boys! That’s what I’m here for!” The man’s voice boomed above the din of the expo goers. “Just step around here and through this curtain and I’ll give ya a great show. Neither of ya are scared by bright lights are ya?”

Steve and Bucky shook their heads, then stepped through one of the curtains and into the small space, both having just enough room to stand comfortably beside each other. “I can’t see a damn thing,” Steve heard Bucky say, slightly in front of him.

“What are we supposed to-” Steve was cut off by the whir of the machine turning on and sudden bright lights flashing on and off around them.

With each rapid flash of the white lights, Steve saw Bucky’s mouth slightly agape, and his eyes sparkling with awe at what they were experiencing. Steve looked around himself, the lights making his eyes hurt a bit, though he swears he saw Bucky flick his gaze towards him once or twice during a flash, like Steve was the only thing that mattered in this twinkling space away from the world.

The show only lasted 30 seconds, but it felt like an eternity for Bucky; enclosed in space, away from the realities of the world, only the lights and Steve. Steve, who he felt like he was setting eyes on for the first time again, only being able to see him every other second. Only being able to appreciate the lines of his face, the startling blue of his eyes, the minute curve of his mouth when he’s trying not to smile, every other second. _How did I get so lucky?_

The man’s voice jerked both boys out of their thoughts as he announced that it was time to step out. “How do ya feel? What’d ya think?” He asked of them as they stepped back out onto the expo floor, blinking at the sudden change of light.

“That was…” Steve started, unsure of how to explain what he just felt.

“Awesome!” Bucky gushed, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

The man smiled and nodded, “We’re callin’ them strobe lights. Not quite sure of their practical use yet, but I just think they’re neat.”

“You got that right, pal.” Bucky agreed with the man, about to start on a tangent of questions and comments about the lights when Steve tugged on his sleeve, pulling him out of his train of thought. “Hey, Buck, my head hurts a little bit, can we go sit down?”

Bucky was reluctant to leave, but agreed, and thanked the man for his time before trudging off to find a suitable bench, or floor space, to rest.

They found an empty bench near the door, and paused for a few minutes to rest from all the walking.

“You ready to leave?” Bucky asked, turning to face Steve.

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough wonder for the day.”

They were about to walk out the doors when Bucky spotted a man in a dark corner, sitting beside a car and toying with one of the tires. _Now, why is there an automobile_ inside _the warehouse?_

“Hey, Steve, hang on a minute, I want to check out one last thing,” Bucky said, starting to walk over to where the man was sitting.

“But Buck, I thought we were – ah,” Steve sighed, noting that his best friend had already left his side. He went ahead and followed Bucky, not wanting to wait around in the middle of the doorway.

“Excuse me, Mister? What are you doin’ over here?” Bucky inquired, startling the man out of his work.

“Geez, man, warn a guy when you walk up behind him!” The man said, getting up from his seat. Up close, Bucky could see that the guy was about his age, slightly shorter in build, and his hair was sticking up everywhere, like he had been running his hands through it.

Once the man was out of Bucky’s line of sight, he could clearly see that there were, in fact, no tires on the vehicle, but instead just metal mechanisms attached to the axels, with the words _Stark Industries_ painted on the sides.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, knowing enough about cars to point out that there should probably be tires there.

“What?” The man blinked, then looked to where Steve was pointing. “Oh, well they’re supposed to be sort of like, propellers, and this automobile is supposed to be hovering right about now, but obviously, that’s not happening.”

Steve shot Bucky a worried glance, while the latter just watched the man in amusement as he rambled on about _a damn_ _blown fuse_ and _stupid junk_.

“Uh, if you’d like, I know a thing or two about automobiles, maybe I could help out?” Bucky suggested, a little unsure how the man would respond.

The man spun around on his heel, stalking up to Bucky in an attempt to be intimidating, but still having to look up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “What’s your name?” He questioned, eyes narrowing.

“Um, James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James, the name’s Howard Stark.” He stuck out a hand, and continued, “And, no offense, but I think this stuff is a little advanced for you.”

Bucky shook Howard’s hand. “I’m a quick learner,” he replied, his eyes glowing brighter with the chance to work on a _flying car_ , even if it is broken.

Howard sighed. “Fine, but don’t touch anything without my say so.”

“Of course.”

Steve took up a perch on a nearby chair, watching the two tinker around and talk about things that went above Steve’s understanding. After about 20 minutes, he watched Howard push the lever situated beside the vehicle for the fifth time, but instead of the car sputtering out like it had before, it started slowly lifting off the ground. Steve quickly got to his feet and whispered, “ho-ly cow.”

“Ah ha!” Howard exclaimed, throwing his hands in the hair. “We did it!”

Bucky looked on like he was about to internally combust from sheer excitement, but only responded with, “Yeah.”

Howard and Bucky exchanged a few more pleasantries, before he basically told Steve and Bucky to get lost, returning to his work without a second glance.

As the boys exited the building, Steve commented, “Well, he was certainly… eccentric.”

“Yeah, but Steve, did you see what he _built_?” Bucky gushed.

Steve snorted. “A flying automobile. How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gunna work for his company someday,” Bucky beamed, staring off into the ever darkening sky.

“Oh yeah?” Steve teased, knocking his shoulder with Bucky’s.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, his expression growing soft for a moment before he shook himself out of his fantasy. “Alright, punk, let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it’s canonically way too early for howard and his car but this worlds prosperous so maybe hes just ahead of schedule
> 
> mmm im not too happy about this chapter, it feels rushed, but i'm striving to do better yall just bare with me
> 
> as always, im on tumblr @[prcserumrogers](http://unitedstarship.co.vu) and kudos and comments fuel me :)
> 
> feedback (positive or negative) is always appreciated!


	4. The World Turned Upside Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for implied sexual harassment
> 
> hey.... skip a year in real life, skip a year in the story... it all works out! here's a really short chapter after over a year!! enjoy!!

_1936_

“Steve, you ever thought about goin’ to college?”

Steve stopped pouring cereal into the bowl and leaned against the counter. “What for?”

Bucky leaned back against the dining chair in the Rogers’ household, crossing his arms. “I dunno, to learn? Discover the world?” He shrugged. “I’ve thought about it a lot lately. Ever since meeting Stark at the Expo last year”

Steve looked up to met Bucky’s gaze. “Yeah? Whatcha gonna study?”

Bucky shrugged again, looking down at the table. “Engineering, I guess. I want to work on the latest technology. You could go for art, y’know.” He looked back up at Steve, gauging his reaction.

“And have some professor tell me how to draw my art? Ha. I don’t think so.” Steve huffed, going back to making cereal for him and Bucky. “You want milk?”

Bucky sighed. “No. And will you at least think about it for me? I think it’ll be fun. You can learn more about art. They’re not gonna tell you how to draw, more like, how to… compose the picture better… I think.”

Steve let out a small laugh. “Yeah? Is that what they’re gonna teach me Buck?” He brought over the two bowls of cereal, one with milk and one without, and plopped down in front of Bucky.

“Shuddup.” Bucky grabbed his spoon and swirled the cereal around the bowl. “I can learn all about how cars are made. The circuits, the wiring, the frame…” He took a bite of cereal, lost in thought.

“I’ll think about it.”

Bucky beamed around the spoon in his mouth and reached out to fluff Steve’s hair. Steve slapped his hand away and started to eat his own cereal.

**

It was a couple days later when Bucky came over after work to hang out. Steve opened the door to his bedroom and stepped inside, grabbing his sketchpad and pencils from the desk, and headed toward the bed. Bucky followed shortly thereafter, closing the door behind him, and settled himself into the vacant folding chair in front of Steve's desk. He crossed one leg over the other and watched as Steve hauled himself onto the twin bed and sat cross legged, his fragile frame barely making a dip into the mattress. Bucky smiled, more to himself than anything, at the sight of Steve, with the sketchpad balanced on one knee and the pencil in his hand, gently tapping away at his head, as he stared at the blank paper, thinking of how to start his next drawing. Steve always had half an idea in his head. It was just trying to get the idea on paper that he was having issues with.

After a few minutes, Steve looked up at Bucky, the pencil now still in Steve's hands. "What?" he asked, catching a millisecond of the smile Bucky tried to hide.

"Nothing," Bucky lied, failing to hide the blush now creeping over his cheeks at getting caught staring at Steve. "You just look ridiculous when you do that."

Steve scoffed at being called ridiculous. "Yeah, well, you… look ridiculous sitting like that." _Nice one Rogers._

Bucky just smiled again and chuckled softly. "Gee, thanks." He paused for a moment, smile fading. "Hey, Steve. Can I ask you a question?"

"'Course Buck, anything."

"What do you wanna do with your life?"

Steve wasn't expecting such a heavy question. _Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s with you._ "Uh, I don't really know. Something with my art probably, but I haven't really thought about it." He put his pencil down. "Why do you ask?"

Bucky got up and went over to sit down on the opposite end of the bed from Steve. "I don't know either. I was just wondering what you were planning." He quickly added on, "If you were planning anything." He stared down at his hands, rough and covered in motor oil from working in the shop.

Steve followed Bucky's gaze down to his hands, then back up to his eyes. "Not really. Bucky, are you okay?"

Bucky looked back up to meet Steve's eyes. _I'm drowning in those blue eyes of yours and you don't even know it._ He blinked. "Yeah. It's just…" He scooted himself toward Steve, and sat cross legged to mirror him, their knees barely touching.

Steve's heart rate nearly doubled. They sat like that, just staring into each other's eyes for what felt like hours, until Steve managed to finally whisper, "Just what Bucky?

Bucky leaned forward a few inches and flicked his gaze to Steve's mouth, cocking his head to the side, like he was gauging how to continue. Steve started to lean forward, Bucky's eyes relocking with his, when Bucky reached up to swipe a stray piece of hair from Steve's eye. "It's just you had a hair out of place and you know how much that drives me crazy."

Steve froze mid-lean. _What._ "Oh, uh thanks."

"No problem."

They were still staring at each other when Sarah Rogers knocked on the door a few minutes later, announcing that dinner was ready.

**

Dinner was only slightly awkward. Bucky bolted at the soonest possible moment, quickly thanking Sarah for her lovely meal. He didn’t even give Steve so much as a _see ya later_. Steve finished helping his mother clear the dishes before announcing he was going to go for a quick walk. He needed to clear his head and think.

Steve sauntered down the quiet Brooklyn street, hands in his pockets and eyes towards the ground. _Was Bucky about to kiss me? Did he get cold feet? He was just staring at me. I swear he was about to kiss me. What happened?_

Steve had more questions than answers. He loved Bucky. He always had. But he had never considered that Bucky loved him back. At least, the way he loved him. _But I swear he was about to kiss me._

The sound of a struggle interrupted Steve’s thoughts. He looked around for the source of the sound, finding a man and a woman arguing in an alley.

“Hey broad, I bought you a drink. You owe me,” said a gruff looking man with a slurred voice.

“I don’t owe you nothin’. I didn’t ask for it.” The woman sounded young. Scared.

“C’mon sugar, come back to my place. It’ll be a good time.”

In the dark Steve could vaguely see the woman pinned against the wall of the bar, the man’s hand moving around her body. Steve didn’t even think before acting.

“Hey! The hell do you think you’re doing?” Steve marched up to the two of them, preparing for a fight.

“Kid, this ain’t your business. Get lost.” The gruff man only turned his head to address Steve, hands still on the woman.

“It is my business when you’re harassing a woman who already told you no.” Steve raised his hands. “Leave her alone.”

“Kid. You lookin’ for a fight?” The man finally released the woman, turning his attention to Steve.

The woman gave Steve a slight nod before running off, free from the grasp of her attacker.

“So, what if I am?” Steve challenged, standing up as tall as he could.

The man briefly turned to see the woman disappear around a corner, then turned back to Steve. “That was my broad you just chased off there.” He lunged for Steve with a raised fist.

The fight lasted less than a minute, Steve only managing to get off one punch before going down from one too many punches to the face and stomach.

“Pft,” The man scoffed. “Thought so.” He left Steve stumbling to the ground and walked off.

“Jackass,” Steve muttered under his breath, trying to get to his feet before slumping against the wall in pain. He smiled, thinking that if Bucky could see him now he’d kick his ass four ways to Sunday. _Bucky._ He almost forgot. _My Bucky._

He sat in the alley for what felt like hours - in reality only about 5 minutes - before finally getting up. He glanced at his watch. _8:56 pm. Diner’s still open._

Steve made a decision and slowly made his way towards the diner. He needed to talk to Peggy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @tokkoyamis
> 
> comments and kudos fuel me :)


	5. Wait For It

Steve plopped into the barstool, and put his head down on the cool counter.

“Rough day?” Peggy asked, coming over to lean in front of Steve.

He lifted his head up only to say, “You have no idea,” before putting it back down.

Peggy decided not to comment on the fresh bruises that littered Steve’s face. She stared at his unkempt hair a moment before inquiring, “You’re rarely here this late. What’s wrong Steve?”

Steve didn’t answer.

“Steve. Look at me,” Peggy encouraged. “Look at me, you know you can talk to me.”

Steve sat up. He straightened himself and looked right into Peggy’s eyes. _God, she’s gorgeous_. “Pegs, I know, but just, not about this. Not this.”

She was quiet for a moment. Then, she poured Steve a hot cup of coffee. She paused again, choosing her next words carefully. “It’s him isn’t it?” She spoke slowly and quietly, gauging Steve’s reaction.

Steve stared at her. She stared back, her expression understanding. “You love him, don’t you?”

Steve searched for anything to say to divert the question, but was at a complete loss for words. “Yes,” he barely whispered, startled into honesty.

She smiled at him. “Then, be confident with yourself. Go get him.”

“But, what if-” Peggy held up a hand at him.

“He loves you too.”

“But, how do you-”

“Darling, you talk about him nonstop almost every day you’re in here. But, it’s not just that, it’s the way you talk about him. You get all smiley and spacey. I’m not blind. Whenever you’re around each other, there’s no getting through to you. You’re glued to each other. It’s honestly ridiculous.” She shook her head.

Steve looked down at his lap, quiet for a few moments. “I love you too, y’know,” he said, looking back up at her.

Her expression softened. “I know.” _God, how did I get so lucky?_ She smiled again. “Now, if you don’t do something about your feelings for him soon I swear to high heavens I will beat you with a spoon.”

He wanted to laugh, but he knew she was dead serious. She reminded him of his mom; strong, confident, a ‘take no shit’ kind of gal. He admired her a lot. “Thank you Peggy. Truly.” He got up and came around the counter to give Peggy a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, kid you can’t be back-”

Peggy waved a hand in the direction of the voice. “Oh, shut up Stan.”

Steve laughed and started towards the door, throwing a quick wave over his shoulder as he stepped out of the diner and into the hot, humid air of a July night. _I can do this._ He repeated those four words like a mantra in his head all the way back to his apartment. He walked in to find his mom asleep on the couch, half read book lying across her chest. Steve smiled and moved the book to the coffee table, bookmarking her place, then pulled a blanket over her. He gave her a kiss on her forehead before heading to his room. He fell onto his bed, and fell asleep with one final thought: _tomorrow._

**

Bucky reviewed his list one more time that night. _Gotta make sure everything that needs planning is done._ It was.

He smiled to himself. _Tomorrow._

**

“Alright c’mon it’s time to start the fun.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and led him out of the apartment.

Steve, startled, hastily shut the door while still being pulled by a very excited Bucky. “Bucky what- where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Bucky exclaimed, all but hopping down the steps of the apartment building.

Steve was still confused, but followed Bucky anyways. “I thought we were just going to stay in and hang out? I told you I don’t want to do anything extravagant for my birthday.” He paused on the stairs and dropped Bucky’s hand, crossing his arms.

Bucky turned. “It’s not over the top, I promise. Just c’mon.” He held his hand out again and flashed his one of a kind killer smile that made Steve’s knees weak.

Steve searched Bucky’s eyes, challenging him, but he knew he couldn’t say no to that smile. He dropped his arms, then took Bucky’s still outstretched hand. Bucky’s eyes lit up as he led Steve down onto the sidewalk.

They didn’t stop holding hands the entire way to their destination.

Bucky eventually stopped outside the diner and dropped Steve’s hand to open the door, gesturing for the him to enter. Steve gave him another confused glance, but walked into the diner nonetheless.

“Buck, you could have just told me we were coming to the diner.”

Bucky feigned a hurt expression, “And ruin the surprise? What kind of best friend do you think I am, Rogers?”

Peggy wasn’t working today, to the surprise, and mild relief, of Steve.

They had a relatively relaxing dinner, spending way longer than necessary sitting in their favorite spot eating burgers and drinking soda. A few of the regulars who knew Steve came over to wish him a happy birthday, asking what his plans were - _I dunno. I’m at Bucky’s mercy today._ \- and other conversational things.

Bucky looked down at his watch. “Okay! Time for phase two.”

“What’s phase two?” Steve questioned hesitantly.

“You’ll find out,” Bucky said, giving Steve a wink and a smile.

_Oh lord._

Bucky lead Steve out of the diner and into the cool air of the sun setting over the Brooklyn skyline. They walked down the busy sidewalk toward the river and the docks, eventually stopping at a bench overlooking the pier, occupied by a familiar looking brunette.

“About time!” Darcy called out, standing up.

“Darcy?” Steve stepped forward to give his eccentric friend a brief hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Per your best friends request, I have brought your birthday dessert,” she answered, turning to pick up a paper bag resting on the bench, and handing it to Bucky. “They’re fresh, just like you asked.”

“Why, thank you,” Bucky replied, taking the bag from Darcy with a curtsey.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Anyways, happy birthday Steve! My job is done so I’ll leave you to whatever shenanigans Bucky has thought of. Enjoy the cu- surprise!”

Steve watched her hastily walk off in her tall heels that he still doesn’t understand how she actually walks in.

Steve turned back to Bucky. “You gonna tell me what’s in the bag?”

“I’d rather just show you.” Bucky produced the two red velvet cupcakes from the paper bag, handing one over to Steve with a flourish and an over exaggerated bow. “May this nourish you, birthday boy.”

Steve laughed, carefully taking the cupcake from Bucky’s hand. “Gosh, don’t call me that. Makes me sound like I’m 6.” He stared at the cupcake, piled with enough frosting to probably kill a small animal. “These cupcakes are ridiculously large.”

Bucky took a big bite of his cupcake as he sat back down, dangling his legs over the edge of the dock. He tried to say “not at all” around the bite, but it came out more like “nfft ah all”.

Steve laughed again, finally taking a small bite of the cupcake that was bigger than his mouth.

It wasn’t long before the fireworks show started. Colors danced off the sky; flashes of light and smoke bouncing around the atmosphere above the river. But Bucky wasn’t paying any attention to that.

"Steve, if you could have anything for your birthday, right now, what would it be?"

Steve didn't say anything for a good minute, lost in thought. He scrunched his nose and stared off into the distance, trying to decide between a few answers. Bucky studied Steve’s face; the way his eyelashes sat on his face as he looked down, the way his nose was scrunched up in concentration, the way his profile looked in the low moonlight, the way his eyes flashed and sparkled with every crack of the fireworks. He studied the way Steve Rogers was the most beautiful thing he’s ever set his eyes on. _He’s perfect_.

Steve squared his shoulders, finally deciding, and turned to look Bucky straight in the eye. "You," he replied, his voice wavering ever so slightly, obviously still unsure of his answer.

Bucky was quiet for a few seconds. Then, he burst out laughing.

Steve was terrified, panicking, thinking he'd just made the worst decision of his life. He made to get up, but Bucky grabbed his hand.

"No! Steve," Bucky tried to say in between rough laughs. "Steve, it's fine, everything's fine." Bucky finally composed himself, and smiled up at Steve. "That's been my answer to that question for the past eight years."

Realization flashed across Steve's face as he recounted every moment of their friendship in rapid succession. That ‘almost kiss’ in his room last week, those looks he catches Bucky giving him every so often, Bucky’s party last year, all the moments before that. He smiled.

“Well,” Steve started, sitting back down, Bucky’s hand still in his, “We’re just a pair of idiots aren’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing is hard


End file.
